


do you beelieve in love

by booandthenwhat (Queerantine)



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Beekeeper AU, Bees, First Meetings, Fluff, Happy Ending, Light-Hearted, M/M, Meet-Cute, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-16
Updated: 2019-05-16
Packaged: 2020-03-06 06:11:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18845248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queerantine/pseuds/booandthenwhat
Summary: In theory, he was very much pro-bee. Intellectually, he knew that bees were the MVPs of the pollinator world. Without bees, there’d be no vegetables, no nuts, no seeds, no fruit, and no boysenberries. Without the boysenberry, there’d be no Knott’s Berry Farm. And without Knott’s Berry Farm, there’d be no Ryan Bergara.He couldn’t let that happen._________________________________Or: Ryan has a bee problem. He does the responsible thing and calls a beekeeper. Shane shows up.





	do you beelieve in love

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s note: This is based on an experience I had last week! Except I’m not afraid of bees, and I didn’t want to fuck the beekeeper. Enjoy.

Ryan Bergara was afraid.

Now there’s no short list of things that Ryan’s afraid of. Bears, ghosts, snakes, bats, demons _,_ the dark, and of course, _bees_.

So of course, when he pulled up to his apartment one Sunday afternoon after a particularly good gym sesh to a veritable _cloud_ of bees in the parking lot, he almost shit his pants.

“FuckfuckfuckFUCK,” he swore, sliding down in the driver’s seat. Thankfully the moving mass was on the opposite end of the building, but the chances of running into at least _one_ bee on his way in were way too close for comfort. But he couldn’t sit in his car forever. Not when his bro Danny was throwing a Game of Thrones finale party later that night. No way in hell he’s gonna miss _that_.

Looking around the inside of his car, he hatched a plan. Grabbing his emergency hoodie and his sunglasses, he snapped into action. Quickly donning them, he threw his gym bag over one shoulder, pulled the collar of his shirt up over his mouth and nose and hustled out of his car.

Hands jammed in his pockets, the cord of his black Unsolved hoodie tightened around his face as tight as it would go, bare calves and airy basketball shorts ripe for the stinging.

Just fifty steps. Just fifty steps to freedom. He desperately tried not to think of the thousands of bees buzzing around the big tree at the other side of the parking lot. He also tried not to think about how ridiculous he must look. A fuckin’ bank robber would have been less suspicious! The closer he got to his door, the louder the buzzing seemed to become. One step, two steps, now it was a deafening _roar_ , threatening to drown out everything but the pounding of his heart.

He ran.

Fumbling with his keys, he opened the door in a panic. He slammed it shut, plastering himself to the inside, heart racing. He had survived. It was like the Queen fuckin’ Mary all over again. Just with bees.

 

* * *

 

~ Fifteen minutes later~

He tried to relax. He had taken a scalding hot shower, tried to wipe the ghost sensation of thousands of tiny legs crawling over his skin with heat and force of will. Tried to push the thought of bees far away, but he just couldn’t stop thinking about them. In theory, he was very much pro-bee. Intellectually, he knew that bees were the MVPs of the pollinator world. Without bees, there’d be no vegetables, no nuts, no seeds, no fruit, and no boysenberries. Without the boysenberry, there’d be no Knott’s Berry Farm. And without Knott’s Berry Farm, there’d be no Ryan Bergara.

He couldn’t let that happen.

So like any true millennial, he took his thoughts to Google.

“swarm of bees what do” he queried. After an onslaught of websites with too much information, and pictures that made him itchy to even look at, he amended his search.

“swarm of bees what do I do los angeles”

Now _that_ gave him the results he was looking for. Los Angeles beekeepers dot com provided a simple solution. “Got Bees?” it asked. “Call a Beekeeper!”

Simple solution. That was fair enough. There was just one problem. Ryan didn’t want to. It’s not like he was _afraid_ of making phone calls. After all, he was a grown ass adult who made all his own doctor’s appointments. He just didn’t like to. _Surely_ someone else would call. He didn’t want this responsibility. This was L.A. Someone in his complex had to be an environmentalist type. One of those people who not-so-secretly thinks dogs rights are more important than human rights. They’d jump at the chance to save these bees, right?

 

* * *

 

~ Twenty minutes later~

He couldn’t help himself. He kept trying to check out the bee sitch from his bedroom window. He even considered asking his roommate if he could look out his window, but thought better of it. Going into each other’s rooms was a boundary he didn’t want to cross. It’s not like he’s ashamed of his Paddington bear, he just had a reputation to keep up.

He finally admitted to himself that he just couldn’t settle down if he didn’t see how the bees were doing. Just one quick peek. Just to make sure they were okay. He didn’t want to admit that he was _worried_ about them. This was L.A. It was just as likely that one of his neighbors might call an exterminator.

Okay then. He was doing this. He was really doing this. Ryan took a deep breath. If he was going to brave the bee storm, he better be prepared. Time to figure out a bee proof outfit that _wouldn’t_ get the cops called on him. If he was being honest with himself, the LADP scared him a lot more than bees ever could.

Thankfully he was already dressed for Thrones. Tight black skinny jeans, House Stark tee and his favorite sneaks. Just the right amount of nerdy casual with a hint of sex appeal. It was a bit outside his usual bro look, but he figured there was no better time to mix it up than at a finale-party-slash-mixer. If working at Buzzfeed had taught him anything, it was that nerds could be damn sexy.

Rifling through his closet, he found what he was looking for. Gloves, from his last trip to Tahoe. If he couldn’t cover his face without looking like some kind of Zodiac copycat, at least he’d be able to protect his hands. Grabbing his hoodie and sunglasses from where he had thrown them on his bed, he tried to mentally prepare himself for what he was about to do.

He was a madman. There was no other explanation. He had lost his goddamn mind.

Walking down the front stairs of his apartment complex, he took a deep breath. In through his nose. Out through his mouth. Slow. Steady. He could do this. He could do this and not freak the fuck out. As long as he remained calm, the bees wouldn’t hurt him. The website had promised that bees in a swarm “were at their most docile”. They were fattened up on honey stores, just like Paddington on marmalade. 

Reaching the bottom of the steps, he peered around the corner of his building. There were less bees flying around. Inching forward, he made his way down the sidewalk and towards the parking lot. He just needed to get close enough to see if they had formed a swarm. Then all he had to do was report it, and then he could go on his merry way. Pat himself on the back for single-handedly saving the bees and chill until it was time to head out for the party.

It wasn’t until he was twelve feet away that he saw it. A dark mass at the very top of the tree. A shiver ran through him at the sight. It was _gigantic_ . That had to be the swarm. And then he looked at the tree to his left. Wait. There was _another_ teardrop shaped cluster on that one. _Huh._ Better call that beekeeper then.

Backing away slowly, he pulled out his phone and scrolled down the list of beekeepers who had volunteered to put their numbers on the web for bee swarm removal. There were five in his area. He took another deep breath, and started cold calling beekeepers. 

The first went to voicemail. _Thank god._

All his life Ryan had been told not to talk to strangers on the internet, and now he was _calling them to come to his house._ He let out a wheezy laugh.

The second said he would have to pass. He apparently already had two swarms to take care of. Ryan thanked him, and went on to the next name on the list. Shane Madej.

Ringringring.  
  
“Hello, this is Shane,” said the voice on the phone. There was a gentle quality to the voice. Soothing. It invited Ryan to trust him. Almost like Ryan had known that voice in a past life, or some shit.  
  
“HeyShanethisisRyan, I’m calling about a swarm at my apartment complex? I, uh, I found your name on the swarm removal list, and… and I was hoping that you could maybe come remove it? I hate to call on a Sunday, so if you’re too busy or something, I get it, I’m just calling because I’m worried about the bees.” Ryan said, voice charged with nervous energy. “They’ve formed a swarm at the top of this tree in the parking lot, and there’s another in this other tree. There’s… there’s _so many_ bees, man. To be honest, I’m kinda freaking out. So. Uh. If you could come, I would really appreciate it.”

“Yeah,” said Shane. “I’m available. What part of town are you in?”

“Great! That’s great! I’m, uh, in Hollywood? Not too far from the Museum of Death, if you know what that is?” Ryan asked.

“Oh, yeah, I love that place. Why don’t you text me your address, and I can be over there in, oh, about 45 minutes. I’ll bring my ladder.”

Hanging up, Ryan let out a sigh of relief. _Finally._ Someone was going to take care of this bee thing.

He fired off a quick text to the beekeeper with his address, and finished his retreat back to his apartment. Now all he had to do was wait.

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s note: Hey, thanks for reading! Feel free to like, subscribe, sound off in the comment section below if you hate my use of expository writing, or have Opinions about what Ryan’s favorite GOT character might be. Tips about formatting would be super appreciated. Seriously though. Kudos and likes are the sustenance of writers, so don’t be shy!


End file.
